


Storm

by VolarFinch



Series: Two Furries and a Fairy Tale [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: 'and they were gay' 'oh my god they were gay', (not so literally), (so it Michael), Bisexual Jeremy Heere, Gay Michael Mell, Jeremy Heere Is a Furry, Jeremy is pining, LITERALLY, M/M, Red Riding Hood Elements, Sort Of, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Very Implied, boyf riends - Freeform, christine knows, hey look actual boyf riends content, its so gay guys, jeremy is afraid of heights, literally a flea, little red hoodie boy, michael is afraid of storms, michael is an OBLIVIOUS NERD, nature: trying to kill jeremy, the squip is a fucking flea and has no real lines, wolf child jeremy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-17 18:50:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13083129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VolarFinch/pseuds/VolarFinch
Summary: “Someone’s out there…” he mumbled. “Who the fuck is crazy enough… in this storm?”His ears twitched. His feet shifted, tingling as his transformation clung to him tightly, ready to break free at a moment’s notice.Jeremy closed his eyes, listening carefully, paying no mind as the soles of his feet became padded, how his arm hair thickened, and how his nails grew and sharpened.The echo of his cave left him as Jeremy let himself simply listen, his hearing carrying him hundreds of feet away, past the roaring sky and through the odd ends and holes he knew like the back of his hand. He found himself seeing a pair of combat boots, dashing across the muddy forest floor, mud splashing and splattering across the person. He heard panicked panting, a faint heartbeat that thudded in panic and desperation. He heard vague mumbling under the cackle of thunder, his heart racing as he recognized the voice.His eyes snapped open, pupils dilated as he gasped, “Michael!”





	Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! A brief synopsis of the AU: it's a Little Red Riding Hood inspired AU where Christine is the town eccentric who is temporarily banned from town after trying to attack Jake with an umbrella (another story), Michael is not-so-little-red hoodie boy who gets Christine the necessities and has no understanding of his own feelings, and Jeremy is the awkward wolf child who has a big Fat Gay Crush on Michael.
> 
> Jeremy isn't so much a big bad wolf. More of an awkward, pining wolf child, based on the Wolf Children movie with a Mysterious Past TM.

Jeremy was not a fan of storms.

It brought up too many bad memories and made him stir crazy. His steps became paranoid; his ears twitched at every sound; his shifts became less controlled, more instinctual. Every creak of the trees was a footstep, every gust of wind was a choir of angry townspeople, every flash of lightning was a torch. Storms meant sleepless nights and the incessant talking of that stupid flee lodged in his ear, using the respite in Jeremy’s resolve to eat away at his self-confidence and sense of self.

Outside the cave he called home, a storm rage. Wind knocked at the trees, hissing and biting chills that caused Jeremy to shiver. The rain pooled at the mouth of the cave, trekking inward slowly. Pellets of rain marred the roof (if he could call it that), giving the cave an empty feeling as the sound reverberated. Jeremy scowled at the ceiling as if it could do something about the monsoon, before trying to burrow himself further into his makeshift bed, which was just a pile of forgotten and stolen clothes he’d collected over the years and shoved to the side of the cave. He pulled a quilt over his head, taking mind to flip-off the storm as he snuggled himself deeper into the pits of his cotton hell.

When storms made their rounds, Jeremy usually had a few days in advance to be aware. He could sense the shift in the atmosphere, smell the densing clouds and taste the moisture in the air. It gave him time to stock up on food (via Christine), get some thicker clothes (via Christine), and find a better place to sleep (via Christine). There were times when his senses dulled, leaving him unprepared for the next morning and the clusterfuck of the storms that would come with it

This was one of those times.

“Stupid fucking storm,” he muttered, trying to ignore the turbulent wind and the whispering noises that clung to his skin. It reminded him of the stories his mom used to tell him when he was little, the story of sirens and their songs. He’d always hated that story. “Sneaking the fuck up on me like an asshole. Fuck you. I don’t need you. I’m better without you.”

As if in response, a particularly large branch broke off and slammed into the cave.

Jeremy yelped, curling in deeper as he flipped off the storm again. _Fuck this,_ he thought, not quite ready to believe the wayward branch was pure coincidence. _Fuck this storm and the cold and my ears and the voices and the stupid flee that doesn’t know how to shut the fuck up._

Jeremy cringed, hearing the distant sound of a tree toppling over, the sound of the word splitting nearly as loud as the thunder overhead. His ears burned and he clamped down on them in an attempt to ward off his transformation.

It wasn’t like Jeremy hated being a wolf child. He enjoyed it most days, liked the way his senses were heightened, and how he had better balance when he was a wolf. He liked the small feats of power he could manage, boosted his confidence in ways he hadn’t felt before he learned to transform. There were downfalls,––he couldn’t quite control his transformations, especially around the full moon or when his emotions dropped, and most of the people in the town feared him too much to try and understand him––but he had Christine and nature and memories of how his dad had said he was proud of him. For now, it was enough for Jeremy.

Thunder crackled, too close for Jeremy’s liking. He snapped back into the present, suppressing a shiver as he whined. He wished he was with Christine. He wished he was warm. He wished he had some food.

Jeremy lamented his loss of food for a moment, thoughts drifting to the delivery boy. Michael, the boy in the red hood, was a frequent visitor in the forest who often brought Christine food ever since she’d been banned from the town market. He was a bit taller than Jeremy with deep brown eyes and messy, pushed back hair that had Jeremy drooling whenever he thought too much about it. He had a small beauty mark above his upper lip, which only made Jeremy think about how much he really, _really_ wanted to kiss Michael. Jeremy groaned into his clothing fort, the cry sounding more of self-pity than anything else. Over the past year that Michael had started the trek to Christine’s, Jeremy had learned to identify the other boy through sheer sounds––the padding of his feet on the ground, the faint smell of cinnamon and dust that clung to him, the pattern by which Michael breathed.

It was kind of weird when Jeremy thought of it. He tried not to think about it too much because then he got flustered and stuttered and there was _no reason_ for him to stutter when no one was even around for him to get flustered at.

Jeremy paused, not bothering to wince as another round of thunder resounded overhead. He furrowed his brow, sitting up as he glanced toward the entrance of his cave with glassy eyes. He sniffed the air, sticking his tongue out as he tried to identify the shift in smells. It was hard to pinpoint the disturbance in the air, the moisture clogging his nose and the rain washing away the scents, but he could sense it.

He stood from his bed, making his way to the entrance of the cave hesitantly. His arms were close to his chest, instinct fueling him to transform at the drop of a dime. His ears grew bushier, extending and widening as his concentration slipped.

“Someone’s out there…” he mumbled. “Who the fuck is crazy enough… in this storm?”

His ears twitched. His feet shifted, tingling as his transformation clung to him tightly, ready to break free at a moment’s notice.

Jeremy closed his eyes, listening carefully, paying no mind as the soles of his feet became padded, how his arm hair thickened, and how his nails grew and sharpened.

The echo of his cave left him as Jeremy let himself simply listen, his hearing carrying him hundreds of feet away, past the roaring sky and through the odd ends and holes he knew like the back of his hand. He found himself seeing a pair of combat boots, dashing across the muddy forest floor, mud splashing and splattering across the person. He heard panicked panting, a faint heartbeat that thudded in panic and desperation. He heard vague mumbling under the cackle of thunder, his heart racing as he recognized the voice.

His eyes snapped open, pupils dilated as he gasped, “Michael!”

Jeremy didn’t remember transforming, the brief memory of lunging forgotten as he leapt from the safety of his cave and out into the harsh storm. His paws hit the floor, near slipping on the mud as he shot forward, caution to the furious winds around him as Jeremy ran. He panted, jaw clamped as he bound over fallen branches, pace increasing with every step he dared. Rain pelted him, attempting to blind him as he glared into the distance, blue eyes narrowed as he searched for familiar red fabric, worn and comfortable with age as he knew.

The forest was silent around him, his trampling deathly loud as the storm curled above him. It seemed to follow his steps, the tailwinds forcing him back. The wind chuckled in his ear, clinging to him as he dodged between trees and bushes, trying to keep mind of misstepping. He nearly yelped as a branch collapsed in front of him, deterring his movements as he awkwardly darted around it. He forced himself on, panting heavily as he glanced around.

_Michael, near._

He could hear Michael’s breathing better––he was close. He had to save him. He had to save Michael.

Jeremy rushed from the trees, shaking off the branches that stuck to his tangled fur. He growled as the wind whipped at his face, laughing cruelly as it diluted Michael’s smell. Michael’s footsteps had faded, stopping abruptly as Jeremy heard a branch crack overheard.

The wolf turned sharply, baring his teeth as he sprinted, jaw clamping down on soaked fabric as he slid past a murderous branch, target in his jaw as he curled in around the human. Jeremy felt Michael freeze up under him, heart rate faster than anything he’d ever heard as Michael struggled to breathe.

He shuddered as his side screeched in pain, a piece of wood scraping against his thigh. He stood shakily, looking down at Michael with large, concerned blue eyes.

Michael gawked at him, brown wide as he glanced over Jeremy. The wolf shifted his weight, glancing around hesitantly as the wind whipped around him. His growled at it, immediately regretful when Michael winced underneath. He glanced down at Michael, checking him over for injury.

Michael reached a shaking hand out, hesitation in his movement as he cupped Jeremy’s maw.

“J––Jere?”

Jeremy huffed in confirmation.

 _Me,_ he thought. _It me. Protect Michael. Get out. Safety. Cave._

Jeremy stepped back, glancing around one last time as he flicked his head up. Michael scrambled up, Jeremy catching the boy with his head as Michael nearly fell, his knees giving up on him. Michael exhaled shakily, not-all present as his fingers threaded through Jeremy’s fur, trembling.

 _Can’t walk,_ Jeremy concluded. _Must carry._

It was a risk, Jeremy knew, with his side already injured, but he didn’t care. Michael came first, always. Michael, Michael, _Michael_.

Jeremy lowered himself, letting Michael fall on top of him. Michael yelped, clutching Jeremy’s fur as Jeremy situated Michael on his back. He hadn’t carried a human on his back in these conditions, so he made sure Michael adjusted himself as he needed before beginning a small trot into the forest.

Jeremy tested his limits, gaining speed gradually as he dodged around broken trees and shredded bushes. The familiar voice of the flea taunted him from within his ear, but he shook the words away as he navigated his way through his forest with more caution than he’d ever dared. Michael clung tightly to his back, gasping short breaths as he burrowed into Jeremy’s fur.

A small part of Jeremy wished it were any of scenario.

He kept on.

Around him, the storm seemed to have given up on stopping Jeremy. The winds’ attacks lessened, the constant barrages turning into hopeless, underswept currents. The rain continued to beat down on the two, but it didn’t seem as vicious as before. The trees seemed to part for Jeremy as his cave came into view, his run slowing into a limp as he entered. Jeremy shifted to his good side, lowering himself slightly to let Michael clamber off.

Jeremy held back a whine as his side flared up, trotting deeper into the cave as he shook the rain off of him. He huffed, taking a moment to breathe as he turned to Michael.

Michael sat on the floor, unfamiliarly still as he gazed blankly at the floor. Jeremy made a small noise, hearing Michael’s heart slow down slightly. The other’s breathing was ragged, fear in his gasps.

Jeremy clenched his jaw, taking a beat to allow himself to transform back into his human form. He took a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair as he glanced down at his leg. He made a small face, not liking the red scraps that marred his thigh. He ignored the injury in favor of Michael, rifling through his pile of clothes for some spares, shrugging on boxers, a pair of sweatpants, and a shirt he was pretty sure Christine demanded he not touch until they were clean.

He made his way over to Michael, footsteps quiet as the rain pattered outside. He crouched down, ignoring the flare of agony in his leg as he put a hesitant hand on Michael’s shoulder.

“Micah,” he crooned. “Micah, breathe.”

Michael shuddered at his touch, eyes widening as he finally seemed to register Jeremy’s appearance. He stared for a moment, looking like the living embodiment of a human mess, eyes tearing up as a hiccup made his way past his lips.

Michael’s hand flew to his mouth as if to try and hide the noise, but Jeremy had already heard, joining Michael on the floor as he sat in front of the soaked boy, cooing softly under his breath. Jeremy’s hands found themselves on Michael’s trembling shoulders, sobs wrecking the other boy.

“Shhh, shh, Micah, Micah, it’s okay,” Jeremy whispered, pulling the other boy into a tight hug. Michael’s arms wrapped around him, head burying into the crook of Jeremy’s neck. Michael made a noise similar to that of an injured bird––a broken, small, fearful plea.

Jeremy’s heart shattered at the noise, his grip on Michael tightening as he rested his forehead on Michael’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “You’re safe now. Michael, Michael, shh… you’re okay… it’s okay. I’m here, shhh.”

Jeremy wasn’t sure how long they sat there, Michael broken in his arms, sobbing. The rain dribbled on consistently outside the cave, warping any sense of time as the two sat in each other’s arms. The wind’s howling settled, calming as Michael did, the tension fading as time passed around them. Michael’s sobs faded, the wetness in Jeremy’s shirt drying slightly as Michael’s breathing evened out.

Michael shifted slightly, head still hidden in Jeremy’s neck as he moved his legs. His foot rubbed against Jeremy’s thigh, causing the paler boy to wince, pain rushing up his leg as he gasped in agony, curling in reflexively as he put his hand on the wound.

Michael drew back, an alarmed look on his face as his gaze traveled down to Jeremy’s thigh. His hand hovered over Jeremy’s, glancing up at the brunet in concern.

“I––are you hurt?” Michael breathed shakily. “Was that––”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Jeremy cut in, a lie on his tongue. “I––I got it before I, uh, found you. I, um, slipped on the mud.”

Michael’s eyes flickered to Jeremy’s hand, not seeming to have heard the other as he carefully moved his foot and scooted back. Jeremy shivered at the lack of warmth, teeth chattering as the cold caught up with him. Michael gave him a saddened look, taking off a backpack on his back. He opened it up, rummaging through it with a newfound determination. His hands still shook; Jeremy could hear Michael’s heart still thudding in his chest, but it wasn’t as violent as before.

“Wha––what’re y––you do––doing?” Jeremy stuttered, sticking his tongue between his teeth to quell their chattering.

“I know it’s in here,” Michael muttered, nearly sticking his head in the bag as he squinted. After a moment, he let out a small cheer, bringing out a handful of bandages and healing creams. Jeremy blinked as Michael fished out first aid supplies, laying them out on a surprisingly dry blanket. Jeremy fingered the comforting fabric, catching Michael’s gaze as he finished putting out his supplies.

“My bag’s waterproof,” he said, answering the question Jeremy was about to ask. “These were for Christine, but I can get more for her later––you’re more important.”

 _You’re more important._ The words echoed in Jeremy’s lovesick head, heart hammering at the words despite his want to protest. He wasn’t that important––especially to Michael. He couldn’t be. It was probably just his hormones. Damn those hormones.

“Jeremy?”

Jeremy’s thoughts were interrupted by Michael’s voice. He glanced up, finding Michael to be standing and looking at him worriedly.

“Wha––?”

“I said, do you have anywhere cleaner to sit so we don’t infect the injury,” Michael repeated gently. “I––I don’t want to risk––” He looked like he was going to finish his thought, but abruptly cut himself off, glancing away, cheeks dark. “––the injury. I don’t want to risk the injury. Yeah.”

Jeremy’s heart fell a little, but he pushed past it as he signaled to his makeshift clothes bed a few feet away. Michael glanced at it, an almost fond smile coming to his face. He glanced down at Jeremy.

“Can you walk?”

“I––of course I can walk,” Jeremy bit back, pushing himself up with an evident frown. He scowled slightly at Michael’s chuckling, determined to prove he was just fine. However, the moment he stood, the room spun around him. He felt sick, his throat clogging as he tipped back. Michael screeched, Jeremy tensing as he prepared for a painful date with gravity. However, he felt arms wrap around his waist, holding him suspended even as his legs collapsed underneath him. He heard a huff about him––Jeremy cracked open an eye, finding Michael to be holding him up.

He sucked in a sharp breath, cheeks flushing as he gazed into Michael’s eye.

 _Not now gay thoughts_ , he begged, arms clutching Michael’s as the other boy lowered him to the floor. Jeremy winced as the gash rubbed up against the fabric, prompting Michael to frown. There was a heaviness to his eyes as he crouched down to Jeremy’s level.

“So, Mr. Of–Course–I–Can–Walk,” Michael started. Jeremy’s cheeks darkened. “You’re not heavy are you?”

“What?”

“‘Cause, I’m just gonna do _this_ …” Michael looped his arms under Jeremy’s legs and arms, picking him up with ease as Jeremy let out an undignified squeak. He clutched to Michael’s wet jacket, eyes wide as he yelped, “ _Michael_!”

Michael frowned slightly, adjusting Jeremy’s weight as he glanced at the other. “You’re awfully light for a carnivorous furry.”

“Please put me down,” Jeremy said instead, clutching Michael like a lifeline, eyes on the floor. “I––I can walk, oh my God, please put me down.”

“I won’t drop you, promise,” Michael responded, taking the few steps necessary to get to Jeremy’s clothing pile. Jeremy’s grip on Michael tightened with each step, tucking his head into Michael’s chest as he avoided looking at the ground. Michael paused for a moment, before lowering Jeremy careful onto the pile. Jeremy kept his grip on Michael tight until he was absolutely positive he wasn’t going to fall, breath stuck in his chest as he tried to tell himself to _breathe_ _it’s only a few feet off the ground, dammit._

“You’re good,” Michael said softly, a gentleness to his voice that set Jeremy’s heart on fire.

Jeremy’s eyes fluttered open, glancing up at Michael, whose face was flushed. Jeremy furrowed his brow in concern, but he didn’t get a chance to say anything as Michael pulled his arms away, retreating quickly to get the medical supplies. Jeremy’s shoulders slumped slightly at the abrupt retreat, but he shouldn’t have been surprised.

“I––uh, I need to, um, s––see the injury,” Michael stumbled, putting the first aid materials on the floor next to him.

Jeremy pursed his lips, abruptly aware of _where_ his injury was.

“You, uh, you don’t have to do this,” he said instead. His side was killing him, but he’s lived with worse. “It’s––it’s not that big of a––of a deal, really. I, uh––”

“No, I’m cleaning up the injury.” Michael interrupted shortly. Quieter, he added, “It’s the least I could do.”

Jeremy couldn’t find it in himself to object.

Awkwardly, Jeremy thanked whatever gods existed that he was wearing boxers, he slipped out of the sweatpants, carefully. He kept his gaze firmly away from Michael’s, setting the pants next to him as he adjusted himself so as to not lay on the injury. He heard Michael take a sharp inhale.

“You got this because of me,” Michael whispered hoarsely.

“I––I did _not_ ,” Jeremy tried to object, the lie falling flat on his tongue. “I––it’s better that it was me and not you.”

“It is _not_!” Michael protested. He poured some hydrogen peroxide into a cup, diluting it with water from a water bottle he’d summoned from the side of his backpack. He pulled out a pair of tweezers and Jeremy, connecting the dots, pulled back with a small whine. “Don’t be like that,” Michael said knowingly. “I need to make sure there’s no wood embedded in your freaking leg, Jeremy.”

Jeremy made another, slightly more hesitant noise.

“Nu uh, no changing my mind,” Michael continued, glancing down at the wound. Under his breath, he muttered, “At least it’s stopped bleeding. Looks like he just skinned himself… still.”

Michael got to work quickly, much to Jeremy’s chagrin. The brunet clenched his jaw tightly as Michael cleaned out the wound, biting back curses as he tried his best to ignore the burning of the injury. Time seemed to drag on, Jeremy’s eyes shut tight as he tried to ignore the wound and the pain. Michael murmured words of encouragement as he worked, hands careful and precise as he worked to clean and wrap the would. After what felt like a million years, Michael finished bandaging the wound.

Jeremy let out a sharp exhale, slumping back on the pile of clothes, taking a few shallow breaths as he tried to think past the subsiding pain.

“It wasn’t that bad, you big baby,” Michael teased gently.

“Let me suffer in peace,” Jeremy mumbled, opening his eyes as he glanced down at the damage. He sighed in relief at seeing the pristine bandages.

The two looked into each other’s eyes for a long moment, interrupted by a crackle of thunder. They both winced, Michael’s eyes widening as he paled drastically. Jeremy sat up, attentive at the sudden shift as he glanced from Michael to the pouring rain outside. When the wind threatened them with a particularly deep howl, Michael seemed to stop breathing, forcing Jeremy to sit up. He reached out to Michael.

“Micah,” he said softly. “I’m here.”

Michael’s eyes flickered to Jeremy, his posture relaxing somewhat at the sight of the other. However, he tensed up again as thunder rattled from above, breath hitching in panic.

Jeremy tugged at Michael’s sleeve, signaling the boy onto the pile. Michael wrapped up the medical supplies with shaky hands, crawling onto the bed with Jeremy. After a moment’s hesitation, Jeremy wrapped his arms around Michael, effectively spooning the boy. Michael froze at the touch, before melting into it comfortably. Jeremy tried his best to not let his internal screaming become verbal, unholy screeching.

Jeremy tried to fight the blush on his face as he pulled up his once-abandoned quilt, careful as he buried his face in Michael’s damp jacket.

“I’m here,” he breathed. “I’ll protect you, always.”

 _That’s pretty gay, Jeremy,_ his subconscious whispered. Jeremy promptly thought of punching his thoughts in the face.

Michael didn’t say anything, his breathing evening out as the rain drizzled outside.

Jeremy, once he was sure Michael was asleep, allowed himself to follow suit.

* * *

Christine trudged her way through the mud as the sun rose in the distance, muttering disdainfully under her breath as dirt clung to her boots, covering up the cute flower designs. She pushed her hair out of her face, rounding the corner as Jeremy’s cave came into view.

“Jeremy?” she called, poking her head in. “Are you––”

Christine stopped herself short, gasping slightly at the scene before her. She covered her face, hiding her grin behind her hands as she tried not to let out a small squeal.

“Oh my God,” she breathed, drawing out the last word.

She walked over the two, taking in their peaceful expressions as they cuddled. She felt like she was intruding on something so she quietly made sure to draw the quilt up and step out. She grinned all the way to her cottage, letting out an excited cheer once she was safely inside.

“Those dorks were _made_ for each other,” she said simply, pulling out a box of pancake mix as she turned on the stove. “Now, how many eggs do I need again?”

* * *

 Later that day, Jeremy would realize it was the best night of sleep he’d ever had.

* * *

Later that day, Michael would realize he was thoroughly in love.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the story! If you liked it, please leave a comment, it helps keep me motivated to continue writing––I especially enjoyed writing this!
> 
> If you want to scream at me, my Tumblr is @volarfinch so feel free to hmu!! I hope you enjoyed; I plan to continue and expand the universe!


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